


Potential to Fall

by JustCharlieBruh



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Black Org is screwed, Buckle up motherfrickers we've got a long ride ahead of us, Children of Hachiman-shin, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, It's just Shinichi going through puberty again with KID as his not-crush and everyone staring, Light Torture, M/M, Misunderstandings out the wahzoo, Mutual Pining, Other, Rewritten History, Shinichi has an inner romantic surprise surprise, Slow Burn, Someone saved these winged boys, Territorial Deities, Traveler - Freeform, Vessels, godhood, oh right, snippet type fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 06:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustCharlieBruh/pseuds/JustCharlieBruh
Summary: There's one rule that everyone knows not to break. Albeit, it's an unspoken one, but an unbreakable rule all the same.If you are not KID, you do not mess with KID's taskforce.It seems that Kudo-tantei never got the memo.(With the potential to fall, comes the potential to fly -faraway)





	Potential to Fall

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is happening. Enjoy?

_K.S: You’re an asshole._

  
_XXX-XXXX: See you soon, Detective._

He tosses his phone onto his bed, scowling as he can practically hear the bastard’s smug voice in the back of his head. He trudges over to his wardrobe, pointedly ignoring the burnt in fist imprint staring back at him as he wrenches open the doors to find something suitable for the heist. He can’t just go in any old clothes, especially not when KID decides to tease him for them, always telling him how dashing he looks. He rolls his eyes, despite what most of the police force believe, he can tell when someone is being sarcastic.

His phone buzzes again, a dove’s chirp notifying him who it’s from and he sighs. He rips off his shirt, ignoring the itch in his shoulder blades, ignoring how his phone buzzes twice more, ignoring just about everything he can to reach some state of calm before having to deal with any more of KID’s bullshit.

Shinichi has to remind himself as he slips on a nice, plain dress shirt and slacks that go with tonight’s dress code, that he’s twenty-three. He’s no longer a teenager and shouldn’t really have the emotional maturity of one anymore. Scratching absently at his shoulder blades, a voice that sounds far too much like Haibara reminds him that he was stuck as Conan for four years so it’s only right that he has to deal with the hormonal imbalance of being turned into a child. His eyes drift over to the fist imprinted on the mahogany. He swallows his instinctual fear at seeing it, before turning away, not wanting to think about how or why his own body was able to heat up enough to burn an imprint into a wardrobe that he’s had for over a decade.

He checks his phone. KID again. His shoulder blades renew their itching as he chews at his bottom lip.

_XXX-XXXX: Possibility of remnants of a Bar at the heist. Pulled some strings. Only taskforce allowed inside, Nakamori will give you an honorary badge when you see him._

An eyebrow raises slightly at that before a voice sounding like Nakamori’s reminds him that KID, despite being a thief, is someone who has rules that you must follow.

_XXX-XXXX: By the way, you still haven’t changed my contact name to anything? How boring of you._

He scoffs, typing out a reply as he pads into the living room to do one last sweep for anything confidential that he may have missed in his first four sweeps. Finding nothing, he looks over his reply before hitting send.

 _K.S: Noted._  
_K.S: Only people of importance get their names put into my phone. Plus, you’re using a burner phone. There’s no reason to change it._

_XXX-XXXX: First of all, ouch. Second, how do you know that this isn’t my real phone number?_

_K.S: Only an idiot thief would give their number to someone trying to catch them. You’re no idiot._

_XXX-XXXX: !!!!!_  
_XXX-XXXX: (/^▽^)/_

_K.S: Stop._

He leaves it at that. As he slips on his loafers, he sneaks a peek at his phone as it buzzes again.

_XXX-XXXX: Ne, ne, Detective~ You don’t hurry now, you’re going to be late~_

He bites out a string of curses as he whips on his blazer, slamming his apartment door closed and almost stabbing it with the key to lock it. Damn KID. He jumps a few steps on the stairway, tossing coins into the small shrine at the door of the mailroom, calling out his goodbyes as something cold brushes at the back of his mind.

Shinichi pays no attention to it, far too engrossed in his need to hail a cab and get to the heist on time.

* * *

It earns him a scowl from Nakamori and a particularly hard cheek pinch, but Shinichi counts it as a win as he’s slipped the visitor’s badge. He’s stopped by a few of the Task Force the moment he sets foot into the building. One, Fuji-san, wraps an arm around his shoulders, laughing boisterously into his ear as Amane-san mumbles her greeting. The crows feet around her eyes crinkle as Fuji-san ruffles his hair into a bird’s nest with such vigor that his head aches for a moment. He can’t help the chuckle that slips out as the old man whispers one of those horrible dad jokes that just seems funny in the moment.

“So,” Shinichi starts once he has himself under some semblance of control, “Why are you both so happy?”

“Why wouldn’t we be happy, Kudo-kun?” Fuji-san laughs out in a way that reminds him of Old Man Suzuki. “The Gods smile down on us today, from where ever they are. A small exhibit, no crowds, less than six entrances into the target room, _and_ the KID Killer’s cousin to help out?”

“KID’s definitely got his work cut out for him!” Someone, Yume-san his mind reminds him with her talisman of protection pinned to her uniform as she beckons them to look at the map. He resigns himself to being dragged over, sneaking glances at the corners of the rooms every so often while Yume-san’s reminders wash over him. He nods along at the appropriate moments when everyone starts chanting along to whatever chant Yume-san has started this time. He spies Hakuba at the edge of the crowd, counting down the minutes as he struggles with extricating himself from Fuji-san’s grip before the old man strangles him with his enthusiasm.

With a final squeeze and some murmuring of how one of the others didn’t look as excited to be here, he’s finally let go and able to _breathe_. He cuts through the tightly packed crowd towards his fellow detective, nodding back when the Brit gives a distracted wave.

“So your way of escape was to sic Fuji-san on some other poor Task Force member?” He ask in lieu of a greeting. Shinichi doesn’t even try to hide his smile as Fuji-san crows victoriously while someone shrieks in horror. There’s a thumping noise and if Shinichi looks back, he’s half sure there’s going to be a doggy pile, and of course, Nakamori walks in. The man turns tomato red and Shinichi politely averts his gaze as he starts yelling for them all to get into place.

“Now, now, Hakuba-kun,” He tuts, taking his place beside him. He leans over, grinning devilishly as Hakuba inches away. Huh. He adds the slightest hint of cockiness to his tone as he fixes his hair, watching the other carefully. “We both know the Gods would be horrified to have me join the leagues of the Underworld due to something other than a case or old age.”

Hakuba snorts, closing his stopwatch with a click. Shinichi grins. “Gods, archaic beliefs for modern times. You can’t go twenty feet without having to bow and pray to a shrine.” They lock eyes for a moment. “There’s a reason that detectives like us do not believe in such trivial things.”

Shinichi can’t help it, he lets out a laugh. Even as Hakuba watches him warily, he leans in close enough to whisper. “‘Detectives like us’, huh? If you were truly Hakuba, you would have known that even _detectives_ like us still hold faith in the Gods. And if you were Hakuba, you’d know that he only closes his watch _after_ the heist has started, not three and a half minutes before.”

He lets the click of the handcuffs settle in the tense silence as the Task Force scrambles to position, never bothering to check on him as they scramble to save their own asses.

“After doing this for so long now KID, one would think that you’d remember all of these little details about _your_ detectives.” Shinichi pauses to smirk up at him, can feel the body heat wafting off with how close he is. “Or, do you just seem to remember all of mine?”

Shinichi never gets an answer as the thief disappears in a puff of pink smoke. He’s pretty sure that the grin spreading across his lips could be best categorized as ‘dangerous’ as the handcuffs clink emptily in his hands.

He’d catch KID one of these nights, with his own hands or otherwise. (The itching in his shoulder blades only urges him on)

* * *

Even though it’s only a graze, the bullet’s momentum still carries him tumbling over the edge. He sees KID. Sees Nakamori’s shocked face before everything is just skyskysky and then-

KID. His vision focuses and he gapes in horror, because the thief has just thrown himself off the rooftop with no glider, no parachute, no other way to save himself and for what? To try and catch Shinichi? Use some parlor trick and use scarves to catch them before they fell? No, KID wouldn’t have enough time, so why-

When suddenly _wings_ burst out of his rival's back, absolutely flipping the last remains of his ruined glider and almost dislodging his top hat, the itch in Shinichi's shoulder blades are the last thing he has on his mind. In fact, the first thing on his mind is how _realistic_ the wings look.  
  
The way the individual feathers ruffle against the wind as strong arms wrap around his waist, preventing him from practically becoming a gory mess upon the concrete in front of the growing crowd. There's a powerful beat as those wings flap and Shinichi is pressed against a strong, definitely unhuman chest. And another beat, until KID is soaring through the night, away from occupied gunmen, the amazed crowd believing his wings to be another trick, and the worried Taskforce going after obvious man still on the roof who just shot one of their detectives.  
  
Beika passes quickly under Shinichi's awed gaze as KID heads straight for his small apartment with each rhythmic beat of his wings. The bright lights are blinding, taking his breath away with a view he'd never expected to have of his district. Something in him tightens for a moment and maybe, just maybe, KID isn’t as much of an asshole that Shinichi thinks he is. After all, he could have just set him down and left him at the museum, but instead he lets Shinichi see this. He could have done _anything_ else, but he chose to carry him in the direction of his apartment and honestly, Shinichi’s inner romantic is screeching.  
  
"This...This is what you see every time you glide away?" He definitely yells over the rush of wind, trying to take his mind off the fact that he’s so lax in the thief's arms. Then again, if he were to struggle, it'd certainly increase the chances of him slipping and most likely fatally saying hello to the concrete streets below.  
  
They turn sideways for a moment, coasting through dark neighborhoods until they reach his street. There, KID slowly descends, jogging to a stop down the walkway just in front of his door. Shinichi watches those wings flare out before folding in slightly to cover them as KID sets him down on shaky legs.  
  
"To answer your question," KID hums, still looking charming somehow despite the glider's remnants still hanging over his shoulders, "yes. That is the view I'm blessed to see most nights when I hold heists here. Of course, I usually don't have to use my wings nor escort one of my favorite and most attractive detectives safely back to his own home, but there _are_ outliers to every situation." He reaches out, thumbing at the tear gently with some emotion plastered all over his face before it disappears into a blank mask.  
  
Shinichi flushes, mumbling an apology under his breath as he fumbles for his key to get the door open. "We, uhm-" He winces at how his voice cracks slightly. "Should probably get inside to get away from prying eyes."  
  
"Finally," KID chuckles tiredly as his wings flutter and knock against the wall a bit, "my detective makes a decision I can agree with."

Shinichi's secondhand embarrassment only grows at the possessive as he wrenches the door open. He steps off to the side for a moment, keeping an eye on his rival’s twitching wings.

"Allowing me to go first? How suspiciously kind of you." KID flashes him a grin that's far too many teeth bared and not even a hint of trust.  
  
That hurts, but, Shinichi can understand because, under all the baseless flirting, there is no actual basis of trust there. They work together towards a mutual reward, but other than that, KID has every reason to believe that Shinichi would turn him in, despite the fact that Shinichi— Shinichi _wouldn’t._ Perhaps, long ago, if he were still the brash, unapologetic idiotic he’s thankfully grown out of, he would have definitely done everything he could have to toss the thief in jail. But now? Now, he nods. Carefully watches KID slip off his shoes and toe on some worn guest slippers he didn’t even know he had.

"I didn't want to chance you running before my questions were answered." He keeps KID in his peripheral as he locks the door, before turning and kicking off his shoes. Faintly, he hears KID snort from the living room, turning to face him just as Shinichi joins him.  
  
The thief's holding a picture of his parents, looking _nostalgic_ of all things under his top hat. "I wasn't going to leave without getting a few answers of my own first." And Shinichi swears his eyes flash yellow for a moment, just before Shinichi clicks on a lamp and moves to find the first aid kit in the kitchen.

Of course, with Ran constantly visiting and restocking it, the first aid kit is never where he needs it to be. It takes more than five minutes of curse riddled searching to finally unearth it from atop the fridge. His arm aches as he takes a break for a moment, still bleeding sluggishly and staining both his shirt and blazer more than he would like. He lets out another soft curse as there’s a loud rip of fabric in the living room and KID shuffles in sideways through the doorway, looking uncomfortable, bumping into the fridge as he holds the remnants of his glider in his hands.

Shinichi watches him incredulously for a moment before KID ‘magics’ away his blazer in a poof of smoke that has him coughing slightly. “Wha-What are you doing?” He sputters for a moment as KID looks at his glider and then at his arm again.

“I’m not about to just watch you bleed all over your kitchen before I get my answers, Meitantei.” KID gives him a pointed stare before wiping up the small droplets of blood on his kitchen floor with what’s left of his glider and tossing it all in the trash. A hand on his hips, he thinks KID raises an eyebrow at him as the thief raises his arm to look at it. “Where’s your first aid kit?” He asks, voice soft enough that Shinichi can hear his heartbeat thud in his ears and he feels like the air’s been charged by _something_ he doesn’t know if he wants to describe.

“On top of the fridge towards the back.” He answers mindlessly, blinking at the other man as he comes back to himself. He promises himself to come back to that moment later, when KID isn’t around and there are a few pillows he can scream into. For now, he stammers as KID makes an awkward sort of turn, trying not to bump his wings into everything. “Uh, I can get it? You don’t need to stress yourself, really-”

KID _glares_ , eyes flashing yellow again and the sight stops him in his tracks. “You’re bleeding. I’m not.” He says succinctly. Shinichi flushes again, the tips of his ears turning warm. “Living room.” He orders and Shinichi immediately turns when he feels something slightly soft hit him in the back of the head. Ow, he thinks for a moment, looking back. He comes face to face with dark blue, the edge of KID’s wing smacking him in the back of the head as the thief does some sort of maneuver to reach the rather new looking, but already worn box.

He scurries into his living room to escape the knowing look KID gives him, almost face-planting into his favorite armchair before landing back first onto his sofa. He shifts to sit upward, wincing at the slight smear of blood on one of his throw pillows. A snort off from the side and he raises an eyebrow at KID leaning against his kitchen doorway with his hands shoved into his pockets, best that he can with his wings and all. The first aid kit is hanging off his wrist.

“No one told you to swan dive onto your couch, _O Great Detective_.” He hears the laughter hidden under the sarcasm and it honestly takes all he is not to just beam outright. Perhaps the night is finally taking its toll. As KID strides over, he can’t help blurting out:

“Could you bring over the back scratcher?” KID definitely gives him an unamused stare. “It’s the Kamen Yaiba one on the side of the armchair?” The Moonlight Magician sighs, but looks for it anyways and Shinichi counts that as a win towards starting to trust one another. KID grumbles, but yanks it out of its slot and hands it to him. He smiles his thanks as KID awkwardly settles next to him, wings thudding against the couch, and opens up the paramedic grade kit to pull out the alcohol wipes and bandaging.

“Thanks,” he murmurs as KID takes his arm. He halfway into scratching at his shoulder blades when the slight sting makes him snap his eyes open. “Ah, wait. You don’t have to-”

“I still will.” KID cuts in, sounding frustrated and taking none of his bullshit. He lowers his voice, sounds like something is stuck in his throat before it magically disappears the next sentence. “I still will. You focus on your comfort for now, let me take care of the rest.”

“Oh.” Shinichi breathes out. The silence is heavy, almost enough to choke him, even as he awkwardly continues scratching at his shoulder blades. “Uhm, thanks again, KID.”

The other just makes a noise at the back of his throat as he finishes taping the bandages in place. “There. Now, we have a lot to talk about.”

“Right,” Shinichi blinks, “coffee? I don’t think I can stay awake much longer without it.”

KID snaps the kit shut with a resolute click. He leans away, probably thinking. The thief tilts his head at the ornate clock on one of Shinichi’s shelves. He groans and rubs at his uncovered eye, murmuring to himself loud enough for Shinichi to hear. “Ugh, it’s already 03:40? It’d be dangerous to fly now. I only have...forty-nine minutes to sunrise. Shit.”

Shinichi exhales harshly through his nose, wondering if inviting the Kaitou KID to stay over is a good, logical idea. “I’ll go start on the coffee, yeah?” He asks, hoping his voice isn’t as far away as he feels. “You said we had a lot to talk about.”

KID scrubs at his face again for a moment, almost dislodging his top hat. “Yeah,” He says, before standing, “but you’ve been up for the past three to four days and have been grazed at least twice-” He holds up a finger at Shinichi’s noise of protest, continuing on strong, “yes, I heard about the latest case where you got shot at. You need to _rest,_ Meitantei. We’ll always have time to talk later,” KID’s voice softens, takes on a pleading tone, “I still have your number and you have mine.”

“And what of your wings?” Shinichi stares at them, finally taking them in even as his body starts to cry out in exhaustion. “Will they just...go away?” He scratches at his shoulder blades.  
  
“With time, yes.” KID nods, “I can pull them back in after having them out for at least six hours.” Shinichi makes a noise at the back of his throat, he can see why KID would rarely want to use them. The thief turns to face him, confusion lacing his tone, “you’re not going to ask why I have them?”

“Considering our world has supernatural elements that most of us are rarely privy to unless we’re supernaturally sensitive— and even then, that’s shaky at most— I’m not surprised.” Shinichi snorts, tilting his head as KID makes a sort of noise at the back of his throat. “Judging by your situation with your wings, it isn’t a spell and you’re also not a tengu. Seeing as tengu have wings that are usually of a darker shade and resemble more of a crow’s in this time and age along with having a longer nose than most which you do not have.” Shinichi pauses for a moment, scooting closer as he closes his eyes. He leans tentatively against KID’s shoulder for a moment and hums thoughtfully as the other goes stock still next to him. “A spell for most wings are temporary and even if there were a rebound, it’d leave you with scarring and no actual wings to use. Plus, you can pop them out with little regards to your clothes as they are the spiritual and non-physical manifestation of wings. These aren’t only real, but also make my shoulder blades itch like no tomorrow, so there’s only one true option left.” He sort of squeals in his head as KID shifts to poke at his shoulder blades. After thinking on it, he blames his mother for raising him into a strong romantic without his actual knowing. She’s always been crafty, has probably known since he was young what she was setting him up for. Still, he whispers out into the silence, “You’re an Ascended. Don’t know which, don’t particularly care at the moment, but you _are_ one all the same.”

KID laughs close to his ear as he begins drifting off, a warm hand tentatively rubbing at his shoulder blades as he finally collapses from exhaustion.

* * *

Although he laughs, KID inwardly screams as the detective begins to snore lightly on his shoulder. He lifts his eyes to the ceiling and prays to the Gods that this isn’t a dream before his Goddess begins cooing in the back of his mind.

 _He likes you_ , the Traveler murmurs, _as I’ve told you all these years, you foolish boy._

 _Yes Traveler,_ he responds in kind, _but I—What he said about his shoulder blades, it worries me._

 _You think him one of us?_ She hums and he can easily visualize her tapping at her bottom lip with a forefinger, ringlets of brown hair spilling from a hood that easily shadows her face from view. _Perhaps, but he is three years past his time of Ascension._

 _Will it hurt him?_ He nibbles at his lip as the detective almost falls into his lap, he shifts a bit to cradle the other man. _His parents would have never seen the signs, they left him before he was even fourteen._

She hisses in his mind and frankly, he agrees.

 _He could very well go mad,_ She warns, voice sterner than he’s ever heard. He understands, this is life or death. _Unless..._ We _guide him. We help him as your mother helped you._ Her voice grows more and more excited that it gives him a slight headache as she literally bounces around in his mind. _With us, he would_ flourish _, reach his highest potential. You two could already reach the stars alone, but together?_ Her voice holds the awe and wonder of a child _Together, nothing would stand in your way._

 _Okay,_ He mentally guides her a step back, _before we do anything involving your odd plots of world domination, let’s focus on the detective. Can we do that?_

 _But you always focus on him,_ She sounds coy and he can’t stop the blush creeping up his neck. Then, she turns serious. _Still, the pros outweigh the cons. If he truly is one of the Ascended, it’ll open up pieces of him hidden away to even himself and stop his shoulder blades from itching so much. Only at the cost of possibly going insane and getting incredibly territorial like you do._

His breath catches in his throat as the detective nuzzles into his shoulder.

 _Shall we teach him to fly, fledgling?_ His wings flutter slightly, only shoving Kudou closer than socially necessary. The man’s halfway into his lap as he carefully stands up. He blinks tiredly and he’s carrying the sleeping detective before his head even hits the couch cushion. As he carefully navigates the narrow hallway to tuck his detective in, he can feel the determination welling.

 _Yes,_ He answers, eyes narrowing slightly as he pulls the blankets down with a twist of yellow energy. Another force of will has the blinds closed shut and yet another has the detective dressed in what Kaito thinks is possible sleepwear. He kneels onto the bed, gently setting him down and tucking him in. He pushes through his exhaustion, turning to leave the apartment when the Traveler speaks again.

 _Rest,_ She downright orders.

 _It’s morning,_ is all he says.

 _Rest_ _. One hour on the couch, then pop your wings in, disguise yourself, and get home. I’ll keep an eye out._ Her tone softens and he can’t find a way to fight it. He sighs, making his monocle and tophat disappear before settling himself awkwardly onto the couch. He burrows his face into the cushion, letting the tension finally leave him.

He’s asleep before he even finishes plotting the course home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Before you get mad, please know that this decided to sucker-punch me in the face with inspiration so I ran with it. And uh, my one song rec at the moment is Slow Dance by Joji, because I had it looping on repeat while I wrote and edited this, weaving tiny bits of my soul into this.  
> (Ngl, both of them passing out is such a mood)


End file.
